


Brews and Barbecues

by SamGirlDeanCurious



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blowjobs, F/M, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/M/M, slight orgasm denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4588782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamGirlDeanCurious/pseuds/SamGirlDeanCurious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean attend a BBQ festival in Kansas City for a little "we" time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brews and Barbecues

**Author's Note:**

> So . . . I might have written a 16 page sex story, guys . . .
> 
> Originally this was supposed to be a short, one-shot in a series of Winchester Vacays, little, cute, downtime stories I was going to write to get us all through Hellatus. Then it turned into this crazy, sex-filled behemoth! Right now it's the only Winchester Vacay story I have done. So, for now, it stands alone. But, if I finish another, I'll make it part of the series.
> 
> Many thanks to Emily, who beta'd this for me, many times, and upon whom the female character is based. I've dragged my feet in posting this, but I think it's finally ready. 
> 
> Please let me know if you see any typos or grammatical errors that we missed!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! As always, kudos and comments are always welcomed!

     Dean came out of the bathroom wearing shorts and sandals. Sam stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Dean Winchester was wearing flip flops.  
     “What?” he asked Sam, spreading his hands wide. “Won’t this work?”  
  
     “Uh . . . no, yeah, it’s fine. I mean, you're wearing sandals.” Sam’s eyebrows were raised so high that they were invisible beneath his hair.  
     “So? It's hot out.”  
     “Dean. You wear three shirts, jeans, and boots in 120 degree weather. I haven’t seen you wear sandals since you lifted that pair from Wal-Mart in the 10th grade in Florida.”  
     Dean shrugged and chuckled. “Dad was so mad he made me go on a hunt wearing them. Said flip-flops were not ‘appropriate footwear for a hunter,’” Dean made quotation marks in the air with his fingers. “That toe is still at an awkward angle, and the nail’s never grown right since,” Dean shuddered remembering the old injury, while he picked up his wallet and phone and stuffed them in his pants.  
     Sam chuckled. “Looks fine for a BBQ festival to me. Remember our deal? No hunting, whatsoever. Today is about beer, ribs, and sauce.”  
     “Yeah, yeah, I remember. Why do you think I’m wearing these clothes? I don’t even have a blade on me,” Dean grimaced. “I feel naked . . .Can we go already?”

  
  


      The ride to the festival was short, as Sam had made Dean spring for a nicer hotel close to the festival site. Dean gingerly drove Baby around the residential neighborhood streets, navigating her sizeable trunk around sharp corners and more hybrid cars than he’d ever seen. Barely squeezing her into a spot between two tiny smart cars, he wondered again how he had let Sam talk him into coming to this thing. He looked at the very upper class facade of the house, nay, mansion they were going to, and cursed his brother’s superior blow job skills. That was the only way Sam could have snuck this by him. He had mentioned it casually, in between taking Dean’s pants off and sucking his brain out through his dick, and expected Dean to be coherent enough to give him a well-thought out answer. Dean would have said yes to anything in that moment as long as Sam would get him off. Were those . . .? Jesus Christ on a crutch, there were fucking columns outside the front of the building. Dean suddenly wished for his boots and flannel back.  
     “Sam. I thought you said this was a beer and BBQ festival. This,” he said, gesturing at the house with something akin to disgust, “does not look like the kind of place that even serves beer.”  
     “It’s a microbrew tasting festival, with BBQ food tents. There might also be a bike race we’re supposed to watch, but I was mostly just interested in the beer.”  
     Dean raised an eyebrow. “Microbrew? What the hell is a microbrew? Ooooh, like that brewery back in Junction City? What, Sammy, PBR and Miller not good enough for you anymore, college boy?”  
     Sam ignored him and continued up the walk to the table where a pretty blonde thirty-something was selling tickets. When Sam was next in line, she looked him up and down like she’d like to enjoy that drink of water. Then she noticed Dean lingering behind him, and the look she gave him suggested she was thinking of adding a meal to her water.  
     “Hello boys. Did you order your tickets beforehand, or do you need to purchase some?” she asked.  
     Sam stepped up to the table, but Dean yanked him back before he could say anything, and addressed the woman himself. “Hi. No, we need to purchase some. Do you still have a couple left, sweetheart? You see, my . . .partner, here, really wanted to try some of these microbrews, and I just can’t say no to him. In fact, I have trouble saying no to a lot of things.” Dean had leaned down as though she was his coconspirator in making Sam happy. He winked, and gave her his full Winchester charm smile.  
     Sam rolled his eyes; Dean was laying it on a little thick. The woman with the tickets leaned forward and gave Dean a look that very clearly said she wasn’t buying his shit, but he was very attractive and so she’d play along rather than bruise his ego. “Don’t worry. Tell your. . . partner we still have plenty of tickets. It’ll be $90 for the both of you.” She flashed him a smile that was just as charming and flirty as his was as she accepted his cash. “Did y’all bring a blanket or lawn chairs to sit on?”  
     Dean turned and half looked at Sam behind him. “No we did not. You forgot to mention that we would need them, Sam. I’m sure we’ll be fine on the grass.” At the mention of his name, Sam thought he saw a look pass over the woman’s face, but it was quick enough he couldn’t quite make it out. A faint gleam flickering through her eyes, almost like recognition, but they’d never been to this part of Kansas City before, and he knew they’d never met her before either. Sam didn’t think any more of it once Dean took their tickets and pulled him towards the back of the mansion. The ticket lady stopped them before they made it out the door.  
     “When ya’ll get outside, there’s a perfect little spot to sit with a retaining wall and a nice shady tree about halfway down the lawn. It’s a little to the left of the lilac bushes, so most people don’t notice it. It’s my favorite place to sit,” she called after them.  
     Dean turned around to thank her. “Well, thank you . . .”  
     “Emily.”  
     “Emily,” he echoed. “We’ll keep that in mind.” 

      The line for the beer was long, and when he saw how small the glasses were, he stared at Sam in horror.  
“Sam! Is this a joke? What are these?‘ Dean asked watching a woman carry a tray marked with four glasses of amber liquid down the line. “What the fuck is this? That’s all the beer I can have? Why are the glasses child-sized?”  
     “Because Dean, it’s called a ‘flight’ of beer. This is a tasting, not a ‘let’s-see-how-drunk-we-can-get competition. Don’t worry, I’ll take you to a bar afterwards, and you can have all the shitty Budweiser you can drink.”  
     “Jesus Christ, can’t even get a decent buzz on with these . . .” Dean grumbled, wiping sweat from his face. He looked toward the barbecue tents and saw that the lines for those were just as long as for the beer. He was never letting Sam pick their vacation again. This was going to suck, and knowing Sam, he’d want to sip and mull and contemplate and fucking muddle over every damn taste of beer, so Dean wouldn’t be able to down his like he likes to do. Dean noticed that his hands were starting to fist, knuckles just shy of turning white.  
     He took a deep breath, repeating his ‘anything for Sammy’ mantra in his head.  
     “Hey bro. How about we divide and conquer this. You deal with the floats of beer, I’ll get us the grub.” With a clap on Sam’s shoulder, Dean ran off toward the smell of spicy sweet ribs and chicken and grease before Sam could even finish saying, “It’s ‘flight’ in his pretentious college boy tone.

     Dean made Sam go back and get him more beer 3 times. As predicted, Sam wanted to talk about each of the beers in turn, sipping each one in turn and rolling it around in his mouth, swishing it between his teeth and purposely becoming so obnoxiously pretentious that Dean threw grass at him, laughing. Dean, meanwhile lounged about in the grass, enjoying the summer heat in Kansas City. Since they found the shady spot Emily talked about, he was able to relax without frying his eyeballs out. And, as it turned out, three “flights” of beer was enough to gain him a sufficient buzz, and he spent most of his afternoon teasing Sam.  
     When the sun was starting to dip down into the trees, Dean got up and told Sam he’d be right back.  
     “Gotta go hit the head. Then, are you good? Do you wanna stay longer, or should we find a place with real beer in it?” Dean asked Sam with a grin.  
     “Nah, I’m good. Thanks Dean, really. I had a really good time. It was nice to . . .” Sam trailed off, dropping his head as though he were suddenly embarrassed. Dean ruffled his hair, understanding perfectly what Sam was saying. “I know, Sammy. Me too. Hey! Do you think we could find a bar with beer, nachos, and pie in it in this town?” he called to Sam as he started to jog off towards the house, where he assumed an actual bathroom might be hiding, rather than a port-o-potty.  
     Dean’s luck held, and he found a bathroom on the second floor, even though he had to sneak past a few rope barriers to get there. Luckily the house was all but deserted, most of the staff being out front or out back helping with the festival. When he was done, Dean opened the carved oak door of the bathroom room and headed out, looking behind him to toss his paper towel in the trashcan. Before his head caught up, his body had entered the hallway just in time to crash into someone and send her sprawling to the floor, along with a great amount of cash.  
     “Hey! Ouch-”  
     “Fuck! Sorry-” Dean looked up to see Emily, the girl from the ticket table sit up and start to gather up the cash that had fallen out of the box in her hands and strewn along the hallway. “Well, hello again. You okay?” Dean squatted down and started helping her gather the money into piles.  
     “Yeah, I’m fine. Just mortified that you actually knocked me over! But I suppose with a . . . I mean, you’re just as . . .” Emily cut herself off as a red blush started to creep up her neck to paint her cheeks.  
     Dean smiled at her awkwardness. He had no idea what in the hell she was trying to say, but as she was cute, he didn’t much care. He turned his charm-o-meter up to 11 and leaned in close while putting some money in the box, flashing her his patented Dean Winchester smile, which just made her blush more. Then Dean Winchester, flirt-extraordinaire, did one of the things he knew without a doubt had landed him at least three women at the end of a night. Using his index and middle finger, he dragged Emily’s tank top strap back up over her shoulder, stroking her arm very lightly with his thumb at the same time. Then he went back to collecting the money on the floor, giving Emily time to breathe again.  
     He had most of the money back in the box and turned to hand it to Emily, who still hadn’t moved. She was looking at him, cheeks still pink, but her eyes had a knowing glint in them.  
     “What?” he asked.  
     “Oh nothing,” she said, but she smirked and moved to take the cash box from him. Dean brushed her hand when he passed her the box, and her smile widened, but she was smiling up at him through her lashes, so he took that as a good sign.

      It took Dean longer to come back from the bathroom than it should have, and he looked disgustingly pleased with himself.  
     “What did you do?” Sam asked, immediately suspicious. Dean just grinned and slapped him on the shoulder.  
     “C’mon Sammy! Let’s go find a real bar!”

  


      Sam and Dean stumbled home after much “real” beer and a few shots. They hustled some pool, making out with more than they came in with, which always made Dean happy. Dean was trying to pretend that he was drunker than he was for Sam, but Sam was able to tell, noticing the glint of mischief in his eye when he thought Sam wasn’t looking. His brother was definitely up to something.  
     The hotel loomed into view, and Dean suddenly stood up straight, pulling Sam into him, kissing him hard.  
     “I had a good day today, Sammy. Thought maybe we could have a good night too.”  
     “Mmmmm,” Sam just moaned and ran his hands up Dean’s shoulders to card his fingers through his hair and pulled Dean into him more, pushing his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean opened easily to him, always opening for Sam, sucking on Sam’s tongue. The kiss ended abruptly when Dean nipped Sam’s tongue and grinned against his lips. The brothers stumbled the last hundred yards or so to the hotel. Sam couldn’t keep his hands off Dean’s body, walking backward when he had to so he could kiss Dean and try to get as close to him as he could. Suddenly, Sam’s heel connected with the parking curb in front of their room and he pitched backward. Dean halted his fall by grabbing the front of his coat.  
     “Greedy boy. You can’t even pay attention to where you’re walking,” Dean dusted Sam’s coat off and pushed him against the wall outside their door. “I’ve got a surprise for you, baby boy.” Dean leaned against the door frame, slipped the keycard into the lock, and pushed the hotel room door open without going in. Sam dragged his eyes away from Dean’s gleaming emerald ones, and looked into the hotel room. One of the bedside lights was on, and there, lounging on the bed watching a Star Wars marathon was the girl who sold them their tickets at the barbecue festival.  
     “Um . . . Dean, what did you do?” Sam asked. Dean just grinned pointedly at him.  
     “I saw the way you looked at her. Thought maybe it was time for another present. You gave me a good day, now I want to do the same for you.”  
     “It’s about time,” Emily said. I’ve had to sit through almost this whole movie waiting for you. You said ‘nine,’ Dean.”  
     Dean had the grace to look sheepish and he apologized, noticing that the clock said it was almost midnight. Oops, guess they’d stayed at the bar a little longer than he’d planned. But they couldn’t have just let those pool yuppies walk out of there with all their money, could they?  
     “Don’t worry,” Emily said. “I don’t work tomorrow, so you’ve got all night to make it up to me.” She grinned and ran her tongue over her bottom lip, reminding Sam so forcefully of Dean that he stopped moving and had to adjust his pants over his thickening cock.  
     When Sam didn’t move into the room after a few seconds, Dean snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face. “Earth to Major Tom! What is your deal? You heard the lady. Stop staring and get in there and start making it up to her.” He gave Sam a shove into the room. Sam stumbled and then recovered himself, moving toward the bed and stripping his shirts off as he went. When Sam got to the bed, he crawled up the middle, until he was straddling Emily’s hips. Sparing a glance back at Dean, Sam leaned down and slid one hand behind her head into her hair, tugging it just a little, bringing her head to the side to fit his lips against hers. He kissed her gently, almost like he was asking permission rather than kissing. Emily readily gave it, putting her own fingers into Sam’s hair and moaning when his tongue snuck into her mouth. Sam pulled away and looked at her eyes.  
     “Hi,” she said, grinning like a five year old on Christmas morning.  
     “Hey,” he replied. “How did Dean con you into this?”  
     “Oh yeah, like I needed convincing. Have you seen yourselves? Plus, how could I turn down the famous Dean and Sam Winchester?”  
     Sam cocked his head. “You’ve heard of us?” His eyes narrowed and he started to pull away, unsure of this now, wondering if they should have tested her before he jumped in bed.  
     “Um . . . yeah. You ah . . .cleared a poltergeist out of my grandmother’s house a few years ago. In ah . . . in Olaithe.”  
     Sam turned back to Dean for confirmation. Dean just shrugged. “Sam, we do a lot of ghosts for a lot of little old ladies. Can’t remember them all. Don’t worry, I checked. We’re safe.” He moved next to the bed, stroking Sam’s back, running his nails down Sam’s spine, making Sam arch and lean into the touch. Sure, they liked to add a little spice in the form of new people into their sex life every now and then, but the only touch Sam ever really craved was Dean’s.  
     “So . . .? Are we gonna do this then?” Emily asked, still underneath Sam. Two sets of very intense eyes turned to her, and she felt her breath go out in a rush. Dean had leaned down so his mouth was brushing Sam’s ear when he spoke.  
     “What do you think, Sammy? Should we play with the pretty lady?” Sam shivered when Dean’s breath stroked his ear, his eyes gone dark as chocolate. He nodded.  
     “Yeah, Dean, I think we should. She was really nice to us this afternoon,” his voice held such smolder and sex that Emily wondered briefly if she survived this night if she’d ever be able to sleep with anyone else again, or if she would be ruined for sex forever. She decided that it was probably worth it.  
     “Okay, wait. Before we . . .” she trailed off as Sam pulled one of her tank top straps down, the same one Dean had put back on earlier that day. “Guh, Sam, stop. I need to think for just a second.” She pushed Sam back, and he sat back on his heels, leaning against Dean’s waist. “We should probably set some ground rules. I’m sure you two have done this before, but I haven’t with . . . well, with two guys, so I think there should be some . . . ah . . . negotiating of . . . logistical things . . . before . . . right?” She looked from one of them to the other, growing more and more flustered as their grins grew, and Dean started chuckling. “What? I mean, I’m right, aren’t I? Aren’t I?”  
     Both brothers were laughing now, and Emily was not pleased with the situation. She sat up and started to wiggle out from under Sam. “Well, if you’re just going to laugh at me-” she cut off, as both brothers grabbed her. Sam pushed her back down on the bed pulling her left arm over her head, Dean pulling her right arm and leaning down to put one knee on the bed. Both of their faces were so close, their breath ghosting over her cheeks. They weren’t laughing now. Dean rubbed his forehead against Sam’s temple, and looked at her. Sam glanced at Dean, just the briefest of glimpses enough to tell him to follow Dean’s lead.  
     “Oh, Sammy, looks like I gave her the wrong impression.”  
     “Your fault, Dean.”  
     Dean’s stare narrowed, became more predatory, eyes the dark green the air turns right before a thunderstorm. “Oh baby girl, we don’t really negotiate. Sam and I here, we’re gonna do what we want, and you? You’re gonna take what we give you, and I promise, you’re gonna love every minute of it.” His lips were so close to hers now that they were brushing against her cheek, making things low and deep in her twist and start to ache. “The one thing you get, baby girl, is a safe word, though I’m sure you won’t use it. Think of a word, girl, but hurry up. God you smell good, and I don’t wanna wait anymore, though Sam’s really the one you have to worry about.”  
     Emily had closed her eyes, unable to bear the scrutiny of both brothers without whining and shifting her hips. At least with her eyes closed she could keep still while letting Dean’s bourbon smoke voice whisper over her skin. She could lose herself in that voice, listen to it curl around her head for hours.  
     There was a pause, and Emily opened her eyes, realizing she had missed something. Oh, wait, they were waiting for her, waiting for her to give them a word. A safe word. That could be important. Emily floundered around, struggling for a word that she might not scream when getting fucked by the two hottest men she’s ever seen. More importantly, a word she would be able to remember and access when getting fucked by the two men who are probably guaranteed to make her forget the English language completely, if their reputation is anything to go by.  
     “Ah . . . um . . . Parsec. Is parsec okay?”  
     Dean dropped his head hiding his smile. Sam nodded, glee reflecting in his eyes. “Yeah, baby, parsec is good. But if you want to use it, you’re gonna have to yell it loud. Sam tends to . . . get lost in the moment and ahead of himself you might say.”  
     Emily looked at Sam, noticing for the first time the darkness behind the lust in his eyes. A shiver went through her, but if it was fear or desire, she couldn’t tell. Maybe it was both. Maybe the promise of sex that might be more than she could handle spoke to something nameless she kept hidden. Or maybe she was just really fucking turned on by the thought of both Sam and Dean at the same time. Wait, speaking of Sam and Dean at the same time . . . how did that even-  
     “Wait, just a second . . . how do we . . . I mean, can I just ask how we physically . . .do this?” Emily gasped, noticing that she was starting to pant. Sam was rubbing circles on her wrist with his thumb, and Dean was doing the same with the hand he had moved to her hip. Sam’s other hand was on her chest a light pressure almost holding her down, and he was also straddling one leg. He smiled when she thrust up, a small involuntary movement with her hips. He bent down and whispered in her ear, lips brushing the cartilage making her close her eyes and whine just a little.  
     “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. It’ll be good; we promise,” he grinned wolfishly and nipped at her ear. “Now, any more questions, or can I get to it?”  
     Emily started to shake her head, but then stopped. “I have one demand.”  
     The brothers looked at each other, smirking. “And that would be, princess?” Dean asked.  
     “Okay, two demands. No calling me ‘princess.’ And, when we get to that part, I want you inside me first,” Emily replied, sticking her jaw out to indicate that she was talking about Dean.  
     “Done,” Dean said and moved to take Sam’s place. Sam gave Dean a dark look, clearly not wanting to yield his place between Emily’s legs. At the look, Emily wondered briefly how far gone Sam was already, and what could pull him back. There was a short standoff where the brothers stared at each other, making Emily think of how cats stare at each other before they attack. Dean, one knee on the bed, leaned over and took the meaty part of Sam’s shoulder between his teeth, biting down hard. Emily wasn’t quite sure, but she thought she might have heard a rumble from Dean’s throat that may have been a growl.  
     Sam gasped and his head dropped forward, one hand gripping Emily’s thigh, the other coming up to hold Dean’s bicep. Emily watched Dean’s skin turn white under the force of Sam’s fingers - now it matched the skin under Dean’s teeth. Sam’s breathing started to quicken, coming in little pants the longer Dean hung on urging him for more. A small movement in Dean’s jaw had Sam not only breathing hard, but whimpering as well, small mewling sounds that made Emily’s pussy muscles clench in heat. Still, Dean hung on. Sam was flexing his fingers now, half-aborted, jerky movements, and his hips were thrusting shallowly into the empty air over Emily’s leg.  
     “Please, omigod, please Dean,” Sam whispered, head still fallen forward, whole body taut as a piano wire. Emily could feel the tension in him thrumming through her thigh, vibrating up her body, making her skin tingle. She heard a growl and gasped, eyes flying open when Sam’s nails now dug into her thigh. Dean must have bit down harder. Sam wasn’t breathing at all now. In fact, he wasn’t moving at all, just clinging to her thigh like it was one of two anchor points, Dean’s teeth being the other one. Emily stopped breathing too and could have sworn the whole world stopped in that instant, waiting to see how much Sam could take.  
     Dean, of course, knew how much Sam could take. An instant before Sam broke, Dean opened his jaws and let go, sucking and licking the mark he’d just made. Sam cried out when the bite ended, body going boneless in Dean’s grasp, only Dean’s hold on his arm and his own hand propped still on Emily’s leg keeping him from falling.  
     Emily watched, mesmerized as the perfect, white imprint of Dean’s teeth turned an angry red, with purple spots in the deep wells. Sam’s eyes opened, glassy and lust-hazed when Dean nuzzled his neck.  
     “Better, baby boy? Can you wait your turn now?” he licked Sam’s skin right below his jaw. Sam nodded and let himself be edged to the other side of the bed. He moved so he was sitting against the headboard, palming his dick through his pants and blinking his eyes slowly.  
Emily found herself wishing she’d asked for Sam first, licking her lips as she watched his hand move. That he could be that undone by a simple bite had her wanting to know what would happen when she got her tongue on him. She realized she was aching to have Sam in her mouth. She wanted to know what he smelled like, what he tasted like, how heavy he’d be on her tongue, how far he’d fit down her throat before she choked.  
     She’d half rolled her body toward Sam, but stopped with a yelp as she felt Dean nip her inner thigh. She looked down and saw two very intense green eyes staring at her.  
     “Thought you said you wanted me first. You changin’ your mind?” Dean sat on his knees, running his hands up Emily’s legs. Once his hands got under her skirt, he glanced up at her, tongue out on his lip. “Tsk tsk. Where’s your panties, naughty girl?” Dean slid her skirt up and used his thumbs just inside the crook of her thighs to pull her apart and open so he could look at her without waiting for an answer. And look he did, cocking his head to the side a little and staring while he ran his tongue over his lips. Emily went still at that, hardly breathing, just letting Dean see her. No one has ever stared so openly at her, and they certainly have never looked at her with the expression Dean’s wearing now, like a starving man in front of a steak. Or the way a hungry lion looks at a baby gazelle.  
     Dean nosed one of his thumbs into Emily and then brought it to his lips.  
     “Fuck, you are so wet. Mmmmm, tastes good,” Dean slid his eyes to Sam, who was still palming his dick but was staring at where Dean was holding Emily open. Dean looked back at Emily and smirked, sliding two fingers into her without warning. Emily gasped and closed her eyes, arching her hips against Dean, but he removed his fingers just as quickly as he’d put them in.  
     “Sammy,” Dean called, and Sam’s eyes flickered up to his. Sam leaned forward, Dean meeting him halfway and rubbing his wet fingers along Sam’s lips. Sam groaned, closing his eyes. Dean took the opportunity of Sam’s open mouth to slip both fingers inside.  
     “Clean ‘em off for me.” Sam obeyed, moaning around Dean’s fingers, his tongue peeking out at Emily while he worked it between and over Dean’s fingers, licking her off of them.  
     “Holy shit,” Emily whispered, biting her bottom lip, one hand sliding lower to rub her clit. Watching these two men was almost as good as partaking.  
     Dean’s hand caught her wrist just shy of her goal.  
     “Not til I say . . . baby girl,” Dean smiled at himself, looking between Emily and Sam, both of them were looking at him, waiting for his next move, waiting for him to tell them what to do. Dean sighed to himself. His brother was so easy. Given full reign, he’s do things that’d make most people run screaming. Not Dean. Dean liked the danger and the hurt. Both of them needed it. Dean also understood that Sam was only giving what he wanted and needed, but today Dean needed Sam to not frighten this girl. They had been lucky with that tall girl in Minnesota. Dean had gotten too drunk and too caught up in Sam’s intensity to stop him, but she had taken everything that Sam gave her and more. But, better safe than sorry here, since they weren’t sure about this girl. Hence, the bite. One long, hard bite that would throb for a while was enough usually to give Sam a throbbing point to focus on and clear his head so he could just have sex without the violence and desperation and codependence that colored their sex lives with complete fucking awesomeness, but was usually overwhelming and disturbing for complete strangers. But still . . . we could push a little, Dean thought.  
     Dean decided tonight was going to go a little differently than they’d planned.

  
  


      He looked down at Emily, her wrist still caught in his hand, her eyes glass and wide, but focused on Dean. A slight movement caught Dean’s eye; Sam adjusting himself in his jeans.  
     “No touching,” he said, looking down at Emily, and then up at Sam. “You either, Sammy. No touching until I say.” Sam whined, but Dean dropped his tone, threading just enough John Winchester through his voice to make Sam pay attention. “Sam. Get your hand off your dick. Now.” Dean did not miss the jump beneath Sam’s pants, his cock straining and responding the tone. Dean’s lip pulled up in a smirk, thinking about how fucked up he and Sam were, and how much he loved. Sam swallowed and slowly put his hands to his sides. “Good boy. Now, I want you to get her ready for me. Both of you, up on your knees. Clothes off. Now.” Dean backed up and stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed. Watching.  
     “I take it you like to watch, huh Dean,” Emily said as she climbed to her knees and started to pull her shirt over her head. Dean just smiled.  
     Soon, she and Sam were both naked, Sam hard and proud on his knees, waiting for Dean’s next order. This is, after all, his favorite game. Emily blushes a little and wonders if it’s actually possible for a woman to physically drip.  
     “Kiss her for me, baby boy.”  
     Emily and Sam turned toward each other, and Sam wrapped his arms around her, arms so long she felt like she’s encased in muscle. Plus, fuck he’s hot, like burning. She can feel the waves of heat rolling off of him, licking her skin, making her wetter, closer to dripping.  
     His lips started at her collarbone, almost too light to feel and moved up her neck. Sam put a hand on the back of her throat and used his thumb to tip her head back so he can suck a mark just below her jaw. She moaned when he bit her just a little, and she pulled him in harder, pushing her hips against his thigh. Sam shifted, putting one thigh more firmly between her legs, making Emily sigh into Sam’s mouth and press herself harder against him, coating his thigh with her wetness. Sam’s other hand pulled her hips hard against him so he could rut against her.  
     By the time Sam separates their lips, both of them are breathing hard. Emily’s slick has covered Sam’s thigh. He nuzzled her neck, pulled away just a little, and dragged his hand through the wetness on his thigh, turning his head to look at Dean while he rubs his forehead on Emily’s jaw. Dean nods.  
     “Go ahead, baby boy. You know how much I love to watch.”  
     Sam’s wet hand went straight to his dick, gripping loosely and slip-sliding up and down the shaft. He groaned while his eyes fluttered shut. Emily watches Sam’s head appear and disappear inside his fist, as she kept running her hands through his hair.  
     “Yeah, Sammy, just like that,” Dean whispered from the end of the bed. Somewhere along the way, Dean shucked out of his clothes and got back on the bed. He was behind Sam with his hands on Sam’s hips. Feeling Dean’s hands on him, Sam leaned back and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. His hand moved faster with Dean’s encouragement, until Emily could see his leg muscles start to tighten and his breathing came in short gasps and mewls. She was thoroughly enjoying the show, but Dean must have felt how close Sam was too.  
     “Sam,” he said, nipping Sam’s neck. “Now you’re just being rude. Look how lonely Emily is.” Sam opened his eyes and looked at her. He nodded. “We can’t have that, can we, little brother? Also, you haven’t finished your job. I don’t think she’s ready yet, is she?” Sam shook his head and pushed up off of Dean. He leaned toward Emily, palm on her chest, pushing her down onto her back. She spread her legs around him as he loomed above her, one arm on either side. Dean laid down on his side, watching them.  
     “Seriously, Sam. You know how wet I want her. Work your way down, use your tongue, but no fingers. Think you can get two before it’s my turn?”  
     “Mmmm,” Sam said as he leaned down for Emily’s throat again. Before his lips touched her skin, his head was roughly jerked back by Dean’s hand in his hair.  
     “You make her come twice before I get in there, Sammy, or you don’t get to come at all tonight.” He looked at Dean with wide eyes, but his expression shifted when he turned his face to Emily. Suddenly Sam was the one looking at her like she was a baby gazelle. Emily gulped.  
     “I . . . ah . . . it’s been awhile, fellas . . . I’m not sure if I can actually . . . ah, do that,” she stammered. It was hard to concentrate when Sam was kissing the crease under one of her breasts while his fingers tugged on her nipple, pulling it erect and making her ache.  
“Shhh, baby girl. Just relax and let Sammy and me do all the work. We’re gonna make it so good; make you so good for us.” Emily closed her eyes. She was not really reassured, but she was so fucking turned on that she decided to just go with it, and she let herself be both lulled and pulled higher by feeling Sam’s lips and tongue all over her and Dean’s hand running through her hair, gently tugging at her scalp.  
     As Sam worked his way over her nipples with his fingers, rolling and pulling and tugging, his tongue left burning trails on her skin. Emily gasped and arched into Sam when he pulled a nipple into his mouth. Her hands found their way into Sam’s hair and pulled. When Sam felt how hard her grip was, he used his teeth on her nipple and allowed his head to be pulled away, pulling her nipple up with him. Emily whimpered in her throat, grinding her hips uselessly into Sam, not able to find quite the right angle. He let go and ran his tongue along the sore nub, making her arch sharply.  
     Dean was kissing her now, running his tongue over her lips, coaxing her mouth open to let him inside. Sam was licking her stomach, moving closer to where she was aching for some friction. His hands pushed her thighs farther apart, his thumbs stroking the crease of her hip and thigh, making her shiver and try to thrust up into him. Sam’s hands held her down. Dean stroked her hair and licked her throat, sucking at the spots that made her jump. Emily just about came up off the bed when she felts Sam’s tongue slide through her folds, looking for her clit. He soon found it and set about licking sucking swirling his tongue around in such a fervor Emily could hardly control herself. She twitched and shuddered, a string of curses and “oh gods!” falling from her mouth.  
     Dean caught the feeling too, and his hands moved faster as well kneading her breasts and rubbing his thumbs across her nipples, all the while staring at where Sam’s face was buried between Emily’s legs.  
     Emily was close. Between how worked up she was before and the feeling of both men’s hands on her, plus Sam’s tongue, she knew it wouldn’t be long. Her body tightened; she grabbed Dean’s shoulder with one hand, squeezing, and the other she wrapped in Sam’s hair, begging him not to stop don’t stop please don’t stop with her fingers. He moaned into her pussy and dug his face farther inside.  
     She didn’t think she could take anymore. She was so tight and so fucking close, so lost in the feel of both of them that she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe anymore. Then she felt Dean’s breath in her ear as he whispered.  
     “Come on baby girl, come for me,” and then he sunk his teeth into her neck. Emily’s eyes flew open and her mouth dropped. Sam, ever in tune with Dean, sucked her clit into his mouth hard, just grazing the nub with his teeth. Emily came harder than she had in a long time, breaking apart into slivers of herself and flooding Sam’s face with more wetness.  
     When her vision came back, she shuddered and tried to put herself back together, Dean resumed petting her hair whispering how good she was for them. Sam lapped at her lazily, tongue making long strokes up through each fold of her, avoiding her overly sensitive clit.  
     Emily looked at Dean and then down at Sam, who grinned at her.  
     “You taste good,” he said, punctuating the statement with a long swipe of his tongue that had Emily groaning again.  
     “Holy shit,” she said for the second time that night.  
     “Yeah,” Dean answered her, breath skating over one of her nipples. “Sammy’s tongue is very talented. You ready to go again?” Emily just looked at him, eyes wide with disbelief. She was pretty certain that was a once-in-a-lifetime-maybe-twice-if-you’re-extremely-lucky type of orgasm. Dean laughed and licked her nipple. “Sammy’s promised me two of those. Plus, I’m fairly certain that you can’t actually move reliably yet. So. . . it looks like you are completely at our mercy.” He finished by squeezing her breast in his hand and pulling the hard nipple into his mouth, settling in as though he would be there for a while. Sam rested his head on Emily’s thigh, watching Dean. He also took the opportunity of Dean’s preoccupation to wipe his face off with one hand, applying the fresh juices to his dick.  
     “Saammmyy . . .” Dean sing-songed, holding Emily’s nipple between his teeth while he spoke. “Just what are you doing?” He twisted his head to look down at Sam, still pulling in the sensitive nipple. It stretched beautifully, all red at the base and white under Dean’s teeth. Emily whimpered, clutching at Dean’s head. He glanced at her and smiled, pulling just a little bit more, making Emily breathe through her nose, and she put her head back down on the pillow, relaxing into the pain. A moment later, her hips started shifting up just slightly and then back down. Dean smiled again and returned his gaze to Sam.  
     Sam was staring at Emily’s thrusting hips. He licked his lips, and then his eyes flicked to Dean’s eyebrows raised. Dean let his teeth open just enough that Emily’s nipple slipped out, and she gasped, burying her head in the pillow while Sam watched her nipple turn almost blood red.  
     “Well? Get to it, Sam,” Dean said, moving his face to Emily’s other breast, licking around it with kitten licks. Sam’s face lit up like it was Christmas and he dove back in with his tongue. This time he used the flat of his tongue to lap long and dragging strokes across Emily’s clit, each one practically bringing her up off the mattress. Her hands fisted in the sheets, pulling and twisting at them. Sam had to hold her legs down or they would have wrapped around his head. It was almost too much, especially since she was still coming down from her other orgasm. Dean murmured from around her breast, hands wrapped around her waist about how good she was doing and she could take it, he knew she could.  
     The more Sam worked his tongue over her, faster and harder, again back to flicking and sucking, the more Emily grew restless, throwing her head back and forth and trying to force her body to move. It was too much. Her hands fisted and opened, fluttering around, her head thrashed back and forth, and her groans became cries which were quickly heading toward screams when Dean sat up and looked at her.  
     “Too much?” Emily nodded frantically, and he straddled her chest, pinning her arms to the bed. “Lemme help with that.” Just having him on top of her gave her enough pressure to focus on that she was able to calm some. Then Dean leaned down with one of his forearms right alongside her head, and he slid two of his fingers in her mouth. It was exactly what she needed. Emily pulled his fingers into her mouth and sucked hard. She ran her tongue up and down each one, swirling over the top and down the other side to tongue the web between each finger. Her world narrowed to Dean’s fingers, the weight of him on top of her, and Sam’s tongue, a burning point between her legs that grew hotter and hotter until she was sure she’d burst into flames.  
     The more Sam’s tongue explored around her clit, licking across the top, the harder and farther she pulled Dean’s fingers into her mouth. Dean’s head dropped to his arm and he moaned, fucking his fingers into her mouth and almost down her throat.  
     “Jesus, Sam, her mouth. God are you going to love her fucking mouth. She opens so good to take my fingers. Can’t wait to see your cock in it. Come on, open up. Lemme see, baby girl.” She whined as he withdrew his fingers, her mouth following and trying to get them back like a baby bird. Dean just shushed her, pressing her mouth open with his thumb against her teeth. He stared into her mouth with the same expression as when he stared at her pussy. He took one finger and ran the tip along her lips, then along her teeth, feeling each one, back all the way to the molars. He pressed his fingers so slowly between her cheek and her teeth so he could feel her gums. He dragged his fingers all the way around her mouth, feeling each ridge.  
     Emily was on fire from Dean staring at her and Sam’s tongue still working. Dean feeling, no inspecting her mouth was turning her on in places she didn’t even know existed, making Sam’s tongue feel even more exact and precise, making her burn she was so turned on. Dean’s mouth was parted, his breathing was starting to resemble panting too. He looked back at Sam.  
     “Sam. Make her come. Now,” and he laid his two fingers flat against Emily’s tongue, signaling her to suck him again. He tightened his legs around her and shoved his fingers farther into her mouth. Sam’s tongue went crazy, and she lurched against Dean, trying to thrust up to him, but not able to with his full weight on top of her.  
     She felt the orgasm building, building, rushing toward her so fast she wasn’t prepared when it crested and broke over her, a thousand sparks flying up and down her body at once. She cried out around Dean’s hands, arching her body into his weight as much as possible, pushing against him. She could feel everything as she came longer and longer: Sam’s fingertips indenting her thighs, the hairs on Dean’s legs scritch-scratching her arms, each whorl of Dean’s fingerprints against her tongue, Dean thick and heavy rubbing between her breasts, each feeling drawing Emily’s orgasm out longer and higher until she might have wondered if a person could physically pass out from coming for too long, had she actually be capable of a cohesive thought.  
     Later, minutes, hours, hell, it could have been weeks for all Emily knew, she opened her eyes when she felt Dean move off of her and Sam roll to the side. They were both touching her, running their hands up and down her skin. They started gently coaxing her up from the bed, trying to get her to kneel or roll over or something. She didn’t have enough brain left to interpret their signals, as she was pretty sure her brain had melted and was currently smeared across Sam’s face.  
     “Guys,” she croaked, “You’re gonna have to spell it out for me here. Just tell me what you want.”  
     “Mmmm, come on baby. Roll over for us. It’s our turn now,” Dean said, pulling at her hips to roll her over. Emily groaned at the thought of putting that much effort into moving, but Dean pulled harder and Sam pushed from the other side, so she really didn’t have to do that much work anyway. Now she was on her stomach, and Dean was spreading her legs so he could climb between them. Once on his knees, Dean pulled her hips up and Sam slid a couple pillows under her.  
     “Perfect,” Dean said, and ran his hands down her back so he was lying on top of her. He kissed and licked down her spine, pulling more sighs and whimpers from her. Once he was back fully behind her, Dean slid his cock straight inside without any warning. She was so slick he plowed in with no resistance at all.  
     “Fuck, you’re so wet and perfect. God, Sam, knew you’d get her ready for me.” Dean continued to spill curses and filth from his mouth, praising both her and Sam as he drew himself out to the tip and pushed back inside. She was so tight and he was so big, stretching and filling her as he pushed in and out again and again, setting up his rhythm.  
     Emily’s face was buried in the mattress and she was moaning continuously now, along with a steady stream of “oh my gods” and “fuck yes, Dean, pleases.” Suddenly she felt hands in her hair pulling her head up and pushing on her shoulders. Emily pushed up on her forearms and then onto her hands so she could look up at Sam.  
     He was kneeling in front of her, his cock so hard it was practically purple. He used his thumbs to stroke along her bottom lip, and then slid his thumbs into her mouth, stroking along her teeth just like his brother.  
     “Please, Emily. Please, just let me . . .” He stroked his cock once, whining softly as he thrust into his hand. Emily nodded, licking the tip of Sam’s thumb. He groaned again and moved a hand to wrap in her hair, pulling her face toward his dick. Dean kept pumping in and out, in and out, and Emily realized she was about to filled on both sides by these two men, and she wanted nothing more than to have both of their cocks inside her at once. Dean thrust forward into her, pushing her mouth on Sam all at once. Sam thrust his hips forward, pushing into her mouth as far as he could go, cutting off her airway as he slid into her throat. Sam’s head fell back and he closed his eyes, dragging his hips away as Dean pulled her back onto him.  
     Whether it was hunting or fucking, Sam and Dean knew how to set up a rhythm together, and tonight was no different. They pushed and pulled Emily back and forth between them, Dean sliding between her legs where she was hotter than some of the fires in hell, and Sam pumping in and out of her lips, sliding in and out of her throat like she was made to take him. Emily lost herself, speared between them, and she just let them move her where they wanted. She moaned in pleasure around Sam, her voice vibrating right up his dick to his spine, making his balls draw up. Sam was close.  
     He reached his hand out to grip Dean’s shoulder. Dean was watching his dick disappear inside Emily, but at Sam’s touch he looked at his brother. He knew that look; Sam wasn’t going to last much longer, and quite frankly, neither was he. Christ, Emily was like a furnace, and combine that with watching his brother fuck Emily’s mouth was bringing his orgasm on him fast.  
     Dean kept one hand on Emily’s hips, but he put his other hand on Sam’s face, bringing their foreheads together. He kissed Sam hard, shoving his tongue in his mouth, and Sam whimpered, digging his nails into Dean’s shoulder. Dean had to break away to cry out as Sam’s thrust into Emily forced her back onto his dick. Emily moved between the two men in time with their pushing. Dean grabbed Sam’s hair, forcing his head back, and that was it for Sam. He pushed his dick down Emily’s throat once, twice more and came pumping with Dean’s name on his lips. Emily had known he was close, and she greedily swallowed as much as she could, but some of it leaked down her chin to fall on the bed. That didn’t stop her from delving her tongue into his slit looking for every last drop. Sam yelled again, caught off guard by Emily’s tongue digging into his over-sensitive tip, and he dropped his hands to Emily’s head to hold her still while he worked through his aftershocks.  
     Meanwhile, Dean leaned forward so he could reach around Emily to rub his fingers across her clit. She was so tight, already so close, with Dean sliding in and out of her like burning silk. When the rough pad of his trigger finger found what it was looking for, Emily saw fireworks behind her eyelids. Each swipe of his fingers had her bucking her hips and crying out around Sam, who was still pumping shallowly into her mouth. As Dean mercilessly stroked her oversexed clit, she heard his voice a little rougher around the edges through the haze in her ears.  
     “That’s it, baby girl. Jesus, you take our dicks so well. Gimme one more. I know you can come for me one more time . . . fuck baby, just like that . . .”  
     Emily bucked against Dean again, not actually sure if she could physically come again. But then Dean slammed home one more time and it was on her, starting slow and rumbling like the beginnings of a thunderstorm through her limbs. Soon the force grew instead of abating because Dean was still fucking her, she pulled off Sam’s dick and pulled his hips toward her so she could sink her teeth into his side, trying to muffle her screams as she tried to shove herself back onto Dean harder and harder.  
     “Fuck,” Sam hissed, breath indrawn through his teeth, dick blurting out a little more come at the new bite mark. He grabbed Dean’s hair and shoulder to keep himself steady. Dean fucked into Emily once more, slamming his hips against the backs of her thighs, and he came soundlessly, pumping feeling Sam’s hand in his hair while he pumped Emily full.  
     The three of them collapsed in a pile of limbs and sweat and come, panting. Emily rolled to her side; she was thoroughly too fucked out to move or to think or really to do anything. She drifted in a lovely haze as the boys petted her and murmured softly to each other. 

 

      Sam was the first to rouse from their small dog pile, to complaints from both Emily and Dean.  
     “Guys. I am not peeling myself off of you two when all of this sweat and come dries. Gross. I’m going to clean up and then we can all pass out later. He stretched as he talked, and Emily, even in her current state, was totally distracted by the miles of skin Sam was showing off.  
     “Mmmm . . . you’re pretty,” she said, smiling and tucking herself closer into Dean. Sam just chuckled and told Dean not to fall asleep. She heard the shower turn on, and then whined piteously when she felt Dean roll away from her too.  
     “‘S cold, jerk! Come back!” she whined, reaching blindly behind her to try and find him and pull him back to bed.  
     “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll be right back to keep you warm in this 100 degree weather.”  
     When Dean came back, he had a warm washcloth and a towel and Sam with him. Emily decided she still couldn’t move, but they took care of cleaning her up and wiping her down. Emily grinned sleepily.  
     “Mary was right. You guys are amazing. Hey! You should open a spa.”  
     Both of their hands stopped working.  
     “Who’s Mary?” Dean asked.  
     “Uh-oh . . .” Emily opened her eyes. “Did I say that out loud? Uh . . . nothing. I was totally dreaming.”  
     “No way, who’s Mary?” Dean crossed his arms.  
     Fully awake now and somewhat grumpy with herself for slipping up, Emily sat up and looked at the brothers, both of whom looked suspicious and blank at the same time.  
     “Oh, come on. Really? Mary? Tall, red hair, sleeve tattoo with a TARDIS on her shoulder? It was only a week ago for Christ’s sake.” Comprehension dawned on both their faces and Emily watched the looks they exchanged a little smugly. “There it is.”  
     “Wait, you know her? How?” Sam asked.  
     “1: Yes. We’re great friends. 2: We,” gesturing to the three of them, “don’t know each other nearly well enough for me to explain that to you.” Emily finished with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.  
     Dean was having none of her sass. “But, I don’t get it. Fine, you’re friends. But you’ve talked. About us? How? When? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, princess, but we’ve kept you pretty ah . . . busy for the last few hours. And what about your Grandma’s poltergeist?”  
     “Sweetie. She texted me as soon as y’all left the Twin Cities. In fact, you are all we’ve talked about all week! She told me to watch for you since she knew I was working this BBQ festival. And my grandma was a total lie.”  
     “But . . . why did Mary tell you that? We didn’t even know we were coming here until we hit Des Moines. Sam? Help me out here. Didn’t you find this place online?”  
     “Yeah, but . . .” Sam was clearly thinking. Suddenly, his face fell into comprehension. “I did find it online, but I got the idea from her computer. I’m pretty sure this is the festival she had up on her screen when we . . .”  
     “Fucked her brains out?” Emily supplied helpfully.  
     “I was going to go with ‘stayed with her,’ but sure. Anyway, Dean. I think we just got played.”  
     Dean looked from Sam to Emily. “Oh, you guys are good.”  
     Emily pulled them both back into bed with her and snuggled herself between them. “Mmmm . . . we are, aren’t we?” She grinned into Dean’s chest. “Well, I don’t know what you planned for tomorrow, but I texted Mary as soon as you bought your tickets. She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon, and she loves a good BBQ.”


End file.
